On Raglan Road of an autumn day I saw her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue;
I saw the danger, and I passed along the enchanted way,
And I said, let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day.

On Grafton Street in November we tripped lightly along the ledge
Of the deep ravine where can be seen the worth of passion’s pledge,
The Queen of Hearts still making tarts and I not making hay –
Oh I loved too much and by such by such is happiness thrown away.

I gave her gifts of the mind I gave her the secret sign
That’s knownTo the artists who have known the true gods of sound and stone
And word and tint without stint for I gave her poems to say.
With her own name there and her own dark hair like clouds over fields of May

On a quiet street where old ghosts meet I see her walking now
Away from me so hurriedly my reason must allow
That I had loved not as I should a creature made of clay –
When the angel woos the clay he’d lose his wings at the dawn of day.

About Grafton Street

Grafton Street was named after Henry FitzRoy, The 1st Duke of Grafton, he was the illegitimate son of Charles II of England who owned land in the area and was developed from a country lane by the Dawson family in 1708, after whom the parallel Dawson Street is named.

Grafton Street runs from the top of St. Stephen's Green to (Trinity) College Green.